#kashiwade

“Aruji-chan, Tanabata passed already, huh? But no one here really celebrates it...” It’s hard for him to forget one of these important dates, so thankfully that wasn’t the case. “Of course I do, though. Do you want to know what I wished for? I’ll tell you, but it’s going to cost you--you tell me yours first!”

Yuutoku Issei.

The name hangs like a prayer on his tongue, and it always tastes of purpose and worth through the thick slide of blood against steel. 

(Perhaps, Hasebe thinks, not all the time but on the days when the skies bleed oranges and reds and thick black smoke, this is what absolution tastes like. Absolution, because he had done no wrong to deserve Nobunaga’s nonchalance; absolution, because perhaps he had, and it was simply that he’d never offered enough.)

It makes it easier, really, to find his master, even as the city seeks to lose itself in religious thralls and a paranoia that ignores all reason. There is a sense of rightness that guides Hasebe to the Saniwa’s side, a sense of belonging and need--and it reminds him, as he holds a hand to his chest and bows his head low, that even if he would wait a thousand years, a million, all of eternity for his master to return, he wouldn’t dare make Issei do the same for him.

“Forgive my delay in coming to your side, aruji--and, of course, my negligence above all.”

        “Aruji-chan, what’s your favorite flower? I want to find something with them!”

          Loneliness is a feeling that doesn’t really leave once it settles in; it’s not with the company of one, two or ten that it moves on to another person. It lingers and sticks and stinks and it’s annoying, too, because it bothers even the most apathetic of the people. But admitting to it is hard, for some, because it’s like it makes the loneliness stronger. For a sword, however, one that doesn’t care, doesn’t mind, nothing matters-- admitting to it doesn’t mean anything.

          Higekiri is a lonely sword, even at the company of several, even at the company of his brother.

          And it gets stronger, too, when Hizamaru isn’t there; when their bed is cold, when his arms don’t wrap around his brother and bring him close, closer, protecting and guarding him like he could be gone any minute. Because he was, he is-- gone. Not literally, but he avoids the brother who he killed, murdered, the brother he so much worshipped but the brother who he assassinated with his own hands.

          Higekiri is too much lonely.

          ❝ I have been wondering, ❞ it mirrors the first time they had talked in that city; the way the tachi looks and searches and finds the Saniwa in the shrine, like it’s his second home ( or first, the home he once had ), and it feels, however, that life on that place wasn’t as demanding of his expulsion as they were before. Was it due to his own current intentions, or had the Saniwa convinced them the sword ( not his ) wasn’t hardly as horrible as they thought? ❝ ... what you have been up to. It has been a while, has it not? Since the last time we spoke. ❞

          Since the day I nearly took your life with my own hands, he fondly remembers, but dismisses such thoughts without hesitance. The Saniwa had proved himself a more curious & interesting person than Higekiri would have assumed. ❝ I hope you have some time to spare for me. ❞ Because--

       He is lonely, incredibly so. Empty. Weak ( it’s easy to see on his face, the lack of sleep, the absence that Hizamaru causes in his life when his own steal-brother avoids him ). And for some reason he, too, had hoped Issei was just the same.

kashiwade

If there’s any sort of blessing to her reappearance in this city, it’s the fact that she has Crescent Rose on her instead of some wooden mockery this time around. The familiar weight of it--compacted and folded at her waist--goes a long way toward keeping her calm.

Sector Six helps too. It’s the calmest Sector in the city when it’s not besieged by fires. (A number of fliers pinned to benches and waste bins warn of the hefty fines that’ll be heaped upon anyone who brings anything even remotely flammable into the area, including fire itself); the shade of the trees reminds her of her home, and she laces her fingers together over her head as she stretches, one eye closed in thought.

The wind’s blowing, the sun’s shining, it almost doesn’t seem believable...this whole “social experiment” business.

Well, Vale had seemed peaceful too. Right up until--

A sudden voice draws her attention, and Ruby jumps, whipping around to see an unexpectedly familiar face. The boy with the fox mask! What was his name again?

What they define their relationship with your muse as

Are you the sun, or are you the stars? Which of us will shape the other? 

“A master and his blade–that is the most obvious answer, is it not? Though, at the rate things are progressing, perhaps I shall also adopt the role of matchmaker as well?”

Something they like about your muse

“Ah, what a difficult question… there are many things I find likable about you.”

That you do not treat me as something delicate. That you let me bleed. That you give me purpose, and I do not find it dreary at all.

“But I suppose it would be best to say that I find you to be interesting and memorable. It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt anticipation with someone–or is the correct term, ‘you make my heart race’? Hahaha.”

Somethingthey dislike about your muse

“I wouldn’t say dislike, necessarily, but I admit that I have been rather curious. Is there nothing you particularly want for yourself? Had any other man been in your position, they would’ve thought to make the world kneel.”

But you–I wonder, do you lack ambition, or do you simply deny it?

Theirfirst impression of your muse

“Hahaha, I still remember the look in your eyes when you summoned me, as though I had been the one to perform some god-given feat. I found it rather cute. Did you think me beautiful?” 

Theirimpression of your muse now

“You’ve proven yourself to be capable and responsible, so as a blade, I suppose there isn’t much more that I can ask of you. I once thought you would more closely resemble a child, but it’s good to see that I’ve been proven wrong.”

Howthey feel about your muse

“I’m thankful. I wouldn’t have ever thought that I would see such a break in routine, but now that you’ve granted me this, I’m afraid I’ve grown a little unhappy with the thought of being parted from you. Hahaha, perhaps you’ve done too well in taking care of me?”

Somethingthey are hiding from your muse

“All that you haven’t asked. Is that not natural?”

Somethingthey wish they could tell your muse

“There is a poem by Tsurayuki that I’ve always liked. Shall I tell you?

“Aruji....”